


No One Bar You

by pleasesayitsnotso



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkwardness, Bad Decisions, Bad dates, Bartender Bellamy, Bisexual Clarke Griffin, Bisexuality, Casual Sex, Character Development, Conflict, Cute, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Drunkenness, Emotions, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hook-Up, Jokes, Mild Smut, Online Dating, Original Character(s), Pain, Past Relationship(s), Promiscuity, Realization, Sex, Slutty Bellamy, Smut, Swearing, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 04:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasesayitsnotso/pseuds/pleasesayitsnotso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy was never one for relationships, he much prefers the uncomplicated and simple fun of hook-ups. However on meeting Clarke at the bar he works at, things begin to change although it doesn't come without its many complications and misunderstandings. Like he said relationships are difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I was inspired by the film 'How to be Single'- if you've seen it you'll definitely identify the many references I've made towards it. If not well you can just enjoy the story for what it is!
> 
> Apologies if there are loads of errors but believe it or not I bashed this story out in two days... I enjoyed writing this and procrastinating way too much.
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoy this as it's written in a much more casual manner compared to many of my stories, so please leave some feedback as it would be greatly appreciated.

*****

* * *

 

“Excuse me but what are you doing?” To many a passerby the woman sat before Bellamy Blake would not have pulled forth the eyes or attention of many. She did not conform exactly to the definition and expectation of ‘beauty’ so brutally robbed, owned and contorted by the media. But she was. Her blonde hair was not polished and preened, it curled and swirled, the textured waves resting upon her shoulders so effortlessly. Her lips were not entirely symmetrical, her cupids bow slightly flat and deflated, but the smirk that graced them was one that lit her entire expression with a type of radiance that could never be bought. Her azure eyes were not crystal clear, but held numerous flecks and flaws of varying shades of blue, a feature that made him want to lose himself in her gaze for as long as he could. But that was not the point right now, the point was she was sat in his bar with her laptop and she had not purchased a drink... typical wifi freeloader. Right now he was met with a smirk of defiance that she wore so well, too well really,

“I’m sat at a bar.” His fingers curled around his edge of the bar, as he stood across from her, preparing to go through the rigmarole of explaining why she couldn’t just sit there and use their wifi. A suppressed sigh of contempt and irritation leaked from his lips before he candidly stated,

“I’m sorry but you can’t just sit here and use our wifi without purchasing a drink.” Not one flicker of annoyance or indignation painted her face, however she immediately took on a look that indicated she was one to have an answer to every question. In accordance with that look she replied in a polite manner that belied the subject and threat held within her words,

“Okay but I live across from here and have the constant pleasure of being woken up and being kept awake in the early hours of many a morning. You know some neighbours would have called the police already but... you have wifi, and I have none so it kinda works for the moment. Don’t you think?” A wide pearly smile finished her statement of intent with a flourish, as she leant her elbows upon the bar, gazing up at him with an innocence that betrayed her former speech. Momentarily Bellamy found he could not speak, his tongue tied tightly by her audacity, however not a moment too soon he soon recaptured his voice,

“Well played princess. For the moment? Yes, for the far flung future? No.” Her eyes gleamed with an admirable glint of mischief, as she replied avidly,

“Deal. The name’s Clarke.” Holding out her hand in a show of concurrence, he allowed his palm to slip into hers as they shook firmly whilst he too introduced himself,

“Bellamy.” A charming smile with attractive dimples came to be upon his chiselled features as he watched his new acquaintance settle back behind her laptop before she quipped,

“Nice to meet you bartender Bellamy.” Visibly pleased with her use of alliteration, she flashed a smug grin before she diverted her gaze back to her screen.  Both turned away returning to the initial tasks that had captured their attention; little did they know that this meeting was one that was to change everything. Their lives had now intertwined and nothing could unravel them and the journey they were to encounter together, this was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**?**

* * *

 

“Seriously Clarke? A dating website?” Whipping her head round to address the verbal attack Clarke's golden tresses swirled with her, curling around her neck before settling in a scarf like fashion as she countered,

“Judge all you want at least I’m trying.” Her gaze followed Bellamy as he returned behind the bar, two empty beer bottles held securely within the grip of his dextrous fingers. A teasing grin captured his lips perfectly, coercing his adorable dimples to come to fruition as he jibed,

“You’re sat in a bar using _their_ wifi in sweatpants, do you blame me for judging?” The chime of glass bottles that fell into their assigned bin permeated the gentle hum and thrum of the bar, as Clarke replied with a tone of witty intent,

 “Rude. What happened to customer service?” Now wiping the counter of his bar with a gusto that equalled that of the effort he contributed towards his jesting of Clarke herself, he stated,

“If you brought a drink and became an _actual_ customer then maybe things would be different.” With a dismissive wave of her hand and a flippant murmur that indicated clearly she wasn’t to agree to his statement, she bestowed her attention back to its original source. Her fingertips glided over the keys with ease and familiarity, the rhythmic tapping managing to engage Bellamy whenever he passed her. Grasping his interest he frequently would pause to read over her shoulder, before chiding her over the ridiculous comment or statement she had made in the hope of forging a match. After his third snide comment, one that provoked a look of pure frustration and bother to curdle the usually angelic features of Clarke herself, she sharply contended,

“What’s your problem with online dating? Come on out with it, some girl ditch you for a guy she met online?” With a harsh and forced imitation of a laugh, Bellamy followed her ridiculous implication of a shunned man with an explanation,

“No but look around you, you’re in a beautiful city in a place where meeting people is the easiest thing possible. Why waste your time telling a stranger, who’s probably lied on their profile anyway, why they should give you a chance? Get out there and make the chance without them having a choice.” Bellamy could not all at once dismiss the adorable crease that etched it's way upon Clarke’s brow, as she inspected him under a squinted and baffled eye. With her voice laden heavily with sarcasm she replied,

“Did Shakespeare write that? Because I think that maybe the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” A light chuckle flowed pleasantly from the bartender’s lips, one of which broadened the already victorious smile that Clarke currently featured. Tickled by the presence of intrigue that Bellamy himself had sparked, she pushed down the lid of her laptop before she leant her elbows upon the edge of the bar, her attention now solely on him. Her teeth toyed slightly with the edge of her lip before she enquired,

“Okay if you’re such an expert, are you dating?” A haughty laugh of a severely mocking nature came forth from Bellamy before he answered her bluntly,

“I don’t date.” An expression of bemusement etched it's way upon Clarke's features, causing her lips to quirk and her brow to furrow before she exclaimed,

“I’m not even sure what that’s meant to mean, but please tell.” At that point Harper, fellow bartender and long time friend of Bellamy, interjected her tone holding the mild manner of ridicule but also much truth,

“He fucks.” His eyes rolled, and a slight sigh of exasperation escaped him as he yet again heard the summary of his current attitude towards dating being painted in a rather derogative light. The fact was he didn’t want to date; it was too complicated, filled with misunderstanding and false impressions whilst sex? Sex was simple. So in all honesty yes Harper's definition of his current status was... accurate, but he didn’t particularly appreciate the negative connotations associated with the statement: ‘He fucks’. Despite this Clarke seemed unmoved by the account; her features remained impartial to the somewhat unflattering manner it had been relayed to her. His life was his own, she barely knew him and she certainly wasn’t going to dwell on the consequences of his actions. That was his problem, not hers.


	3. Chapter 3

**:D**

* * *

 

Bellamy lingered by the familiar sector of the bar where Clarke was occupied, knowing full well from the look upon her face that she was incredibly happy about something. That something intrigued him, and as he placed himself opposite her, he noted how her sapphire eyes flickered excitedly across the screen of her laptop. On noticing his presence, her gaze shifted to where he stood a smug expression painted liberally upon her face she asked,

“Can I help you?” Wiping clean a wine glass, his fingers stumbling with the effort of holding both the glass and cloth at once, he managed to enquire through a suspicious glance,

“What’s got you looking so pleased with yourself?” Leaning back to sit up straighter, she radiated pride and victory as she announced,

“I have a date with Destiny.” Finishing cleaning the glass he’d held, he placed it back on the shelf as he rolled his eyes, his disgust and disbelief shown clearly in the scrunch of his brow. His response was that akin to a whining child, as he moaned in a manner that flaunted his rich tone of voice,

“Oh please don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who writes facebook statuses with inspirational quotes...” With a mocking high pitched voice, that was supposed to mimic that of said type of girl he continued,

“... ‘Enjoy life today, yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never come’.” Clarke fought hard against the visible show of amusement that threatened to fracture her composure, because no way in hell was she humouring him, as she managed to hold it together enough to quip back,

“No actually, I literally have a date with a girl called Destiny.” Clarke couldn’t quite identify the expression Bellamy wore in response to that, it seemed to be a menagerie of a number of emotions and thoughts colliding together at once. As if he couldn’t quite pin down what he thought or what was in actual fact the correct response to such a statement. So with a somewhat hesitant approach he replied,

“Good, I’m glad...” Despite his unreadable reaction, the way his words trailed off into nothing and the stifled show of congratulations indicated there was something more he wanted to say. Never one to shy away from the unsaid Clarke asked, her brow high upon her forehead in an adamant show of intrigue,

“But...?” All at once a breath seemed to catch within Bellamy’s throat, his chest felt tight and his shoulders stilled in a rather uncomfortable position. Although as soon as that moment became it soon fell away, as he sighed in a show of dubious contemplation before he answered,

“Who the hell is named Destiny?” With an incredulous shake of her head, and a slight smirk of hilarity over his absurd comment, Clarke chastised him accordingly,

“So you call me out for using a dating website instead of meeting people, but yet apparently an odd name is enough to end any further communication?” As a customer waved towards Bellamy for attention before departing he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear,

“Shut up Princess.” A giggle of sorts came from Clarke as she watched him leave, the shake of her head indicating she still couldn’t quite believe the audacity and hypocrisy of the bartender himself. If she was quite honest however she couldn’t find herself to really care what he thought, because after the last few disasters that had been what some would describe as relationships, she had a date. If she could take back the bad decisions she had made before she would, but she couldn’t and that was that. She’d had her period of healing, her time to regroup and ‘find herself again’ and now she was ready to try again. Although this time perhaps with much more caution, and maybe that rightly explained why she opposed just meeting someone in person with no prior knowledge of who they were. Yes someone could, as Bellamy pointed out, lie on their profile but with the number of social media’s most people possessed she could sure as hell figure out approximately what type of person they were. That was enough of a security blanket for the mean time.


	4. Chapter 4

**+**

* * *

 

In the days following up to her date with Destiny (okay that did sound ridiculously corny but Clarke adored the pun too much to let it drop) Clarke and Bellamy spent many an evening contending on all the protocols and expectations of dating in the modern age. From profile picture deceit and the period of time in which to call or contact the other person, they frequently found themselves on opposing sides as they fought for their opinion. Although after Clarke let slip that a little background check never hurt anybody, Bellamy pointedly halted the stock check he was currently conducting, before casting an inspecting glance her way. From his knowledge of women and the many ways of which he picked up women, he decidedly found in her remark the reason for her pursuit of online dating. She’d been hurt, and this manner of dating meant she thought she was able to prepare herself for any unexpected eventualities. Any misrepresentations or hidden intentions perhaps she could find them in a twitter feed or an instagram post, it was equally admirable whilst also somewhat poignant,

“Clarke you know you can’t just research people.” The recognition of her rather stark admission now fell into place, as she all at once looked incredibly uncomfortable under his watchful eye. What made it so much harder to bear was the small glint of sympathy and care that shone in his dark eyes, their friendship wasn’t built of this. Not yet anyway, plus it meant that he’d soon ask what had made her be like this and she wasn’t ready for that either. With a voice that he would not have identified as hers she mumbled softly,

“I know but always prepare for the worst you know.” Her complete change in demeanour, one of which he hadn’t encountered yet, immediately captured him as he relinquished the pen he’d been using from his hold. Stock check could wait, plus he hated doing it and it was boring as hell. There was something up, and despite her being a right pain in his ass most of the time, he found that he actually sort of cared that she was currently clearly compromised. With a gentle tone, that was rarely used, he asked,

“What’s the worst?” Her posture wait rigid at his question, however simultaneously she seemed to shrink appearing as small as ever. As her eyes of sky blue peered up at him, he saw in them the heavy contemplation and battle of whether she could answer him. Whether she wanted to answer him. Although after a moment of study on her part she clearly felt she could impart some information, her perturbed and severe form did not recede but she did speak,

“Finding out he’s got a fiancée, or that despite all the romantic crap they talk feelings are something they decidedly can’t cope with. That’s some of the worst.” Immediately Bellamy felt a wash of something akin to guilt, it was ridiculous but then he thought of all those women who had fallen into bed with him. The murmurs and explanations of shit men and women who had wronged them, which he decidedly ignored, tumbling from their lips in the heated moments they shared. He kissed them away, made them forget momentarily how crap they felt, but it didn’t change the fact that their solace in him came from the hurt of another. But then that was none of his doing right? He had no role to play in the drama and disaster that had been their prior relationship or experience; he was merely a tonic to ease the pain. So the only words he could muster was a somewhat empty remark of,

“Sounds like an asshole.” Although the rehearsed and rather repeated comment of comfort did instigate a pang of regret at its use upon Clarke herself, she didn’t seem to see its falsehood. Stated within the release of a dismissive sigh she replied accordingly,

“It was two different people but... that’s done now so... my Destiny has changed.” Her smirk of amusement at her own pun dispelled the torn expression of anguish that had befallen her before. The glitter of wit and satire that sparkled so readily within her clear blue eyes returned with equal vigour, as a pained groan emanated from Bellamy himself. Her love of this pun was something that he was quite sure would finish him off before the tedium of stock check did. With Clarke's clear indication of a moment passed he allowed them to fall back into the teasing exchanges they were so familiar with. She was okay he was sure of it, whilst Clarke herself was not so sure for the moment but she was glad to pretend.


	5. Chapter 5

**@**

* * *

 

For the first time ever in their short acquaintance Clarke actually came to the bar without her laptop in tow, and to be honest it felt incredibly odd even to her not to be settling into her usual spot. Purposely she had planned to meet Destiny at the bar before they moved onto the art exhibition, a mutual interest which had pretty much sealed the deal for Clarke, plus she was interested in the reaction of one Bellamy Blake. Any excuse to provoke, annoy or irritate him was in Clarkes books time well spent, and despite everything he was a sort of friend.

Striding into the bar despite noticing that Bellamy did indeed look up at her, he clearly didn’t recognise it was her until she finally reached the bar and yelled over the din of customers,

“HEY!” As he finished serving a patron he glanced over the heads of those pressed along the side of the bar, to find that the woman he had clocked a moment ago was in fact Clarke herself. Shit. She looked amazing, not that she wasn’t already good looking enough but it was somewhat refreshing to see her in clothes other than shapeless sweatpants; scruffy t-shirts of bands he’d never heard of; and slouchy sweaters. On her top half she wore a plain white blouse which was made casual by the presence of a charmingly vintage looking black leather jacket. Whilst tight black skinny jeans exhibited a pair of toned legs he never knew she even possessed, accentuated further by the black heeled boots she wore. Her rebellious gold locks she had tamed into a sophisticated up do, whilst two tendrils of curls spiralled next to her cheeks framing a complexion that had been enhanced further by carefully applied make up. She looked every inch date worthy, and he couldn’t help but feel the slight murmur within his chest that suggested an attraction that he’d rather not deal with. Taken aback by her presence, it took him a moment before his brain gave him any words to say to her, those of which came out rather ineloquently,

“Wow... you look... you look great Clarke.” A grin spread across her lips, one that clearly portrayed the triumph she felt at his faltering compliment, before she replied in jest,

“See when I actually can be bothered I can look okay.” He looked at her with an expression that questioned her observation, his eyebrow quirked in a manner that followed suit with his bemusement,

“I never said you didn’t look okay.” She laughed at his defensive comment, knowing full well that Bellamy wasn’t one to usually care if anything he said was taken the wrong way, although he was never one to throw insults around. Looking up from under her long thick lashes, she teased through a radiant smile,

“You didn’t have to but those disapproving looks at my sweatpants said enough.” A small chuckle leaked from his lips as he admitted readily,

“Okay you got me there I hate those sweatpants. You’re in public wear proper clothes!” This again provoked a verbal show of amusement from Clarke herself before she retorted,

“They’re comfy!” Bearing in mind it was an early Saturday evening, they were soon interrupted by the impatient call of a way laden Harper,

“Bell I need a little help here... like NOW!” With a nod of confirmation, he quickly turned back to Clarke his body starting to move him away from her towards his intended purpose as he shouted,

“Good luck, I’ll speak to you later.” Pressing her hands on the bar she leant over to watch him move away as she replied,

“Thanks I’m just going to await my Destiny.” She couldn’t resist throwing in that pun again, mainly because she revelled in the clear expression of repulsion Bellamy wore whenever she used it. As predicted his features scrunched up in a look of disgust as he flippantly, but with the warmth of familiarity, called back,

“Get out of here Princess.” Turning to his impatient customer, she moved away from the bar and weaved her way through the building throng of punters, before she settled on a stool. Procuring her phone from her bag she noted it was ten to seven, meaning it was to be ten minutes until she was met with Destiny. Quite literally. Looking back at the bar she noticed that Bellamy’s gaze sought her out, a smile capturing his plump lips and revealing to her those adorable dimples that she had yet to tease him for. Relinquishing her desire for distractions to ebb her nerves it wasn’t too long before her date turned up, and after a quick introduction and a peck to the cheek they left. What Clarke could not see was the way Bellamy’s features fell slightly as he watched her leave, his gaze following her until she was no longer in sight. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this, but he sure as hell wasn’t ready to contend with it yet, so with that he threw himself back into work. It was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**:/**

* * *

 

Well that hadn’t gone to plan at all... turned out Destiny was at an initial glance a unique, kind and friendly individual, and in many ways she was. However she had upon arrival to the art exhibition identified an attractive artist who’d clearly curbed her attention. With thick dark rimmed glasses; stubble that was rough but groomed expertly so; and numerous tattoos that decorated his muscular forearms Clarke was demoted pretty much from the start. Of course that had not all become clear until mid-way through the night, and after one too many alcoholic beverages on both of their accounts, Clarke noticed how every act of flirtation was followed by a not so subtle glance by Destiny in the direction of said man. She was putting on a show and for all unintentional purposes Clarke had become part of it, an act she didn’t want to star in. Laden heavily by injustice and thoroughly pumped up by numerous whiskeys Clarke tried in earnest to politely communicate her annoyance and disappointment at the current situation. ‘Politely’ was a wild stretch and after a few pathetic defensive remarks on Destiny’s part, Clarke left pissed drunk and pissed off. Despite her anger and frustration at her failed date, she decided that she was not one to waste an evening of potential, and as Bellamy had stated previously they were in a beautiful city where meeting people was easy. So off out she went.

Now it was way past four am, however she did know that at this time of the night Bellamy would be closing up the bar. If she was brutally honest she didn’t quite know why she so wanted to see him, because she knew very well he’d be there with the ‘I told you so’ speech cocked and loaded. Eugh the disgustingly smug look that would grace his handsome face, the way his pleasantly wild dark curls would sway with the movement of the disapproving shakes of his head. The manner in which he’d use his large but somewhat mesmerising hands to express to her why she shouldn’t have pinned all her hopes on a mere internet portrayal of her ideal date. Fuck him... fuck him and his beautiful face, would she fuck him? Right now yes.

So here she was walking towards the doors of her now familiar stomping ground, although declaring it as walking was rather pushing it as to be honest as it was more like stumbling.  Pushing through the doors which despite the visible ‘CLOSED’ sign were mysteriously open, she entered the empty bar the scent of cleaning products hitting her hard. Most stools were now stacked away neatly however there seemed to be no one around, so with a deep breath and all the effort she could muster Clarke slurred within a sharp yell,

“BELLAMY!” At that moment from behind the bar, where the staff room and a storage cupboard was hidden Bellamy himself stumbled out into view. However there attached to him her crimson bra exhibiting a perfect and plump pair of tits was Harper. Both their lips were rosy and swollen looking, made so clearly by the explicit activities they had just been so thoroughly enjoying. Their tresses was ruffled into disarray, evidence that moments ago their fingers had combed through each other’s hair, clearly lost in one another. As Bellamy immediately identified who it was who’d breached the bar after closing time, Clarke could not avoid noticing his hands quickly doing up his fly, button and belt on his jeans,

“Clarke! What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Her voice was lost, gone somewhere she couldn’t find however she could not prevent her head from shaking side to side in an intense show of denial. The fall that she’d felt within her gut, the way every sense she had managed to cling onto plummeted into the ground alarmed her. She felt something for him; she’d wanted him... what the fuck was wrong with her. Backing towards the door in a hurried but bumbling fashion, she observed as Bellamy quickly rounded the bar moving towards her with the purpose of comfort clear in his eyes. She didn’t want it; she didn’t want him... not now anyway. Pushing with a forceful slam of her palms against the glass panes in the door, she exited the bar her feet moving faster and faster as the foundations of the safe haven she had made for herself fell away. In her drunken state and after she’d fled Clarke failed to see how Bellamy had tried to chase after her calling her name in avid desperation, before he aggressively kicked a pile of rubbish that awaited collection outside the bar. Until finally his fist slammed into the concrete wall, it hurt, everything hurt and he wasn’t used to that.


	7. Chapter 7

**!**

* * *

 

It wasn’t until a week later that Clarke realised with an almighty blow of inconvenience that she had in fact left her iPod lead at the bar, the bar of which she hadn’t been back to since that god awful night. It made her severely cringe whenever she thought of that night, although simultaneously it also made her hurt. She knows it shouldn’t do though, she knew what he was like, hell even Harper herself had so eloquently put it as ‘He fucks’. Was she just attracted to absolute idiots? People who had no comprehension of how to deal with emotions or feelings, and who also lacked the ability to recognise the righteous social norms that everyone else held when regarding relationships.

She could have very easily stopped hanging out at the bar the moment her wifi had been fixed, but she had enjoyed the company of one bartender Bellamy far too much. Despite adamantly persuading herself that he was merely a burgeoning friendship, it turned out that all you needed was a shit date and a whole load of alcohol to make you realise the complete opposite. Now she had to return to the place of the crime, all because she wanted to download some new music. However looking on the bright side it was a Monday which she knew to be one of Bellamy’s days off, so hopefully she could afford to return to the bar without running into him. She would however encounter Harper, not that she had a problem with her (she had no real reason to), but she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to see her knowing that Bellamy had kissed her, held her and ravished her body just a few meters from where she used to sit at the bar. Just the very thought made her insides curdle and turn, but even worse it also made her wonder. She didn’t want to wonder; she didn’t want to think about him not anymore, she’d already wasted enough time doing that this week.

So here she was again pushing open the door and stepping inside, where she was met with a rather tranquil, serene and comforting scene. It felt almost like it was made so for her purpose alone, as if life had gone out of its way to try and cushion the blow. Although she thought it would have been a hundred times better if it hadn’t allowed that night to come to be to begin with... life really is a bitch.

As predicted Harper stood behind the bar, this time with decidedly more clothes on and a rather more refined hairstyle than she’d had before. On her entrance she looked up, and immediately an expression of shame, guilt and apprehension contorted her pretty delicate features. With a pause and a preparatory inhale of breath Clarke marched over to the bar, purpose laid bare in her strides. Evenly she asked,

“Hi I was just wondering if my iPod lead had been put back, I left it here a week or so ago.” Harper's mouth hung agape, clearly shocked by the cool manner in which Clarke had addressed her, although it soon shut when she realised she actually had to reply,

“Yeah I think Bellamy put it back for you, I’ll just go and get it.” Her tone was unsure and hesitant as if she was still testing the waters for stormy weather, her guard ready in case a hurricane rode in. As she moved from behind the bar into the staff room to procure said item, Clarke wondered bitterly: What type of a name is Bellamy? Who on earth calls their son Bellamy? Beginning to rile herself up she was suddenly interrupted by the reappearance of Harper, the bright white lead held within her petite fingers as she stopped across from her,

“Here Clarke...” As swiftly as she arrived Clarke glanced up, a fake smile plastered easily upon her face as she retrieved the lead, a polite and courteous reply spilling forth in a manner we all routinely learn,

“Thanks Harper.” Turning to leave her steps soon fell into the fast pace she needed to get out of a place that held far too many memories for her to take. Harper however seemed to have a different agenda to Clarke, unable to let the incident go,

“Clarke wait!” Turning around she was met with Harper's forlorn expression for the second time that day, before she continued,

“I’m so sorry about what you saw that night, it was so inappropriate and I...” Clarke abruptly blurted out amidst Harper's sentence, unable to endure anymore of her pleading words,

“It's fine honestly, it’s in the past, all done now.” Despite her girl next door appearance however Harper had an admirable amount of resilience as she persisted,

“He’s sorry too you know? He misses you I can tell, he’s been doing that ridiculous mopey pout you always teased him for.” In all honestly she wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and so as if on cue an automated reply came to be,

“Things happen... anyway I’ve gotta go so bye Harper.” She didn’t really wait for a reply as she turned and left, not allowing even a flaw to falter her strides. She wanted to get out of there and fast. One prevailing thought was that Bellamy was both so right and so wrong, you couldn’t predict what people were like on dating sites, they lied and they deceived like the flaws of humanity leads us to do. But then he was also wrong because you couldn’t just force someone to give you a chance, to give you a shot at proving you could be the one for them. Sometimes you don’t get chances, not even a glimmer of one, or sometimes you just have to watch them sail past, lost before you even tried.


	8. Chapter 8

**=**

* * *

 

It has been just over a month now since she’d last been at the bar and she wanted to say she didn’t miss it in the least. She didn’t miss her spot; didn’t miss the annoying barstool that would tilt at an odd angle; didn’t miss the beautiful piece of artwork that hung on the back wall; and she most certainly didn’t miss him. Not at all. Despite this she had found herself walking past it on numerous occasions, her gaze piercing through the wide glass window unintentionally seeking out his tall figure. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t seen his mop of dark curls swaying and bobbing about as he saw to customers, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t try and capture a quick glimpse of those delectable dimples he possessed. Damn him.

Life in the absence of said bar and its... accompaniments was rather dull in all honesty. In light of everything that had occurred she’d turned off all notifications relayed from her dating profile, as she decided that for the moment dating could wait. Her profile remained in existence but its use was completely null and void, just some empty words, opinions and facts of a girl she once knew, once was. After a month of dating profile absence and a particularly boring afternoon it somehow seemed to be a good idea to log back in and see if anyone interesting had tried to match with her, god she really was a sucker for punishment.

Logging in she was met with a number of notifications, however far an above the mundane match requests there was one person in particular who’d sent her a message pretty much every day for the last month: Bellamy Blake. Before she knew what she was actually doing she clicked on his name, immediately she was taken to his profile where she was met with a gorgeous picture of him in a chequered shirt holding a beer and smiling. Those dimples glared up at her as if to make an important point, one that she wasn’t willing to confront yet. Scrolling down she found his caption read,

‘ **Enjoy life today, yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never come.** ’

She lost her battle to not smile and find his tongue in cheek caption so amusing, because it was to everyone else a genuine inspirational and swoon worthy quote but to Clarke it was one of their many inside jokes. She remembered the ridiculous high pitched voice he’d put on when reciting that exact quote, taunting the girls who used them in a genuine show of the mystic and complicated lives they led. What a dork. Continuing to scroll down she found his status,

‘ **Trying to find my Destiny** ’

At that she couldn’t contain the snorting laugh that erupted from her so suddenly, because yet again it was another joke that was just theirs. Something only they understood or knew about, and with that thought a painful realisation dawned on her, something which she should have realised from the get go. This was all for her. He hated dating websites, hell he hated dating yet here he had made an actual profile, a profile that was made with her in mind. Suddenly feeling incredibly vain over her assumption she continued to move down his profile information, trying to see if her theory was right or whether she actually needed to get her head out of her ass. One section he’d described his ideal match,

‘ **\- Lacks wifi**

**-Horrific sweatpants**

**-Stalks potential dates on all their social medias**

**-An adorable dork**

**-Awful puns galore**

**-Unintentionally beautiful at all times** ’

That confirmed it all, he’d made this for her... he wanted her. Looking up at the mirror placed opposite her she caught her confounded and stunned expression, her mouth agape and resting in the shape of an ‘o’ whilst her eyebrows were raised so far she’d nearly lost them in her hairline. He actually thought she was ‘ **unintentionally beautiful at all times** ’ although perhaps if he saw her right now he may rethink that opinion.

Presently she wasn’t sure what she felt, the pain and suppression of the last month or so had somewhat dulled her emotions, tangled so many of them together so tight that they had just become one big knot of indifference. Was now the time to cut them free? Allow everything to come flooding back? But then within everything there was not only the happiness, affection and friendship she had felt with him, there was also the pain, heartbreak and vulnerability she had encountered too. Was it worth all that? Could she really endure it all over again? It was time to decide.


	9. Chapter 9

**:O**

* * *

 

Bellamy was losing hope now, god he wished he’d actually been someone who did do relationships because perhaps then he would have been able to deal with this thing with Clarke properly. He can’t even think of the proper word to describe it just ‘thing’. He really was a lost cause, an idiot who had spent so long sticking to what he knew that when he actually met someone who was worth it, worth everything, he had no clue how to deal with it. He’d messed up.

Finishing his cigarette he stubbed it out underneath his toe, before he took a large gulp of his bottled water, time to get back to work. Walking back into the building he combed his fingers through his windswept tresses, a huff of discontent escaping his lips far too easily for an early Wednesday evening. Tonight was going to be a long night of nothing much but the same old customers; same old drunken arguments and fights; followed by the same old clean up routine. Prior to Clarkes absence from his life work had never seemed much of a chore, if anything it became something he bizarrely looked forward to. He got to see her and that was something he didn’t ever anticipate wanting, but there he had been slowly and gradually falling for her every minute she was there.

The month without her had been painful, not only because he had broken a few knuckles against that wall, but also he’d... liked her, he liked her a lot actually. That evening when she’d left for her date it had finally hit him how much he did like her, she was witty, charming, intelligent, interesting, beautiful and just an adorable dork. With a damaged ego that felt incredibly bitter over the fact she’d rather go on a date with someone else than spend time with him at the bar, that night whilst cleaning up he’d done what he does best. Fucked. Harper was a good friend, and in all honesty she fully understood the purpose of his pursuit of her and she wanted some stress relief as much as he did. Falling against the cupboard door his hands grasping at every inch of her soft ivory skin, he tried not to compare how the blonde locks that cascaded down her back were not as curly as Clarkes. Harpers tresses lacked the warm golden colour and luscious shine that Clarkes possessed, but that wasn’t important then and so he had blocked her from his mind as he lavished Harpers neck with hungry and impatient kisses. Initially he’d though it was his sick mind playing games on him when he’d heard her voice shout out his name, but his intrigue and desperation to know meant he’d stumbled out just to check. There she was. The intelligence he admired in her so much came into its own painful purpose as she observed his state of undress and Harpers too, before she left without so much as a word. What a fuck up.

Not long after his revelation over the feelings he felt for Clarke he’d gone through the contacts in his phone, deleting the many women he cared not one ounce for unless it was an offer of an evening of fun:

**Brunette Chloe**

**Blonde Chloe**

**Charlotte**

**Charlottes Mum**

**Hot waitress**

The shameful list continued on and on, and it made him resent himself so much more over the fact that he once prided himself over the number of women he had in his phone. All those numbers of women he didn’t actually want to know he deleted, knowing that if he was to give himself even a fighting chance of proving his worth to Clarke he’d have to sort himself out. This was a start.

Trudging through the back staff entrance he came through out into the bar, internally he pulled himself together trying in earnest to forget all the shit that had happened. God he missed her. He missed the fact she always sat in the same spot; he missed the way she’d swivel and complain about the dodgy barstool; he missed how she’d critique all the random pieces of art in the bar; and he missed the god awful puns and jokes he actually found hilarious. To put it plainly he missed her in her entirety, hell he even missed those horrific sweatpants.

Walking over to the paperwork he had recently printed off, he assessed the details of a recent enquiry over the possibility of the bar hosting a party. As his eyes skimmed over the words he felt his brain couldn’t really hold any information right now, his mind distracted and pulled into the chasm of despair he seemed to wallow in nowadays. It had at one time become a persistent habit to glance in the direction of Clarkes spot, but he had managed to train himself to avoid looking there altogether. Right now however the presence of someone there meant he had no choice but to look. Did that person really need to sit there? What was so unappealing about all the other places in the bar? It was an early weekday evening and so fairly quiet, it wasn’t as if there were limited options, although everything changed as soon as he placed his attention on the special spots current occupant. It was her.


	10. Chapter 10

**< 3**

* * *

 

In his mind he’d replayed over and over how he would deal with this situation however he didn’t ever believe it would come to be. He took a moment of just staring at her, his eyes skating over every inch of her drinking her in a desperate manner that betrayed his fear of her absence again. She looked even better than he remembered, her fresh and glowing complexion enhanced effortlessly by the enchanting sparkle in her bright azure eyes. Her teeth toyed nervously on her lower lip, as her gaze locked with his. Finally able to comprehend that this was in fact reality he gingerly made his way over to her, stopping just in front of her before he gasped in disbelief,

“Clarke?” A crooked smile came across her features, as she replied in a teasing tone that concealed a painful truth,

“Hi Destiny’s a bitch.” Both erupted into a breathy but uneasy chuckle as they revisited the pun they had shared so many times before, back when things... hurt less. After their amusement subsided, Bellamy looked upon her with such affection; care and concern that it made Clarke fidget slightly. He never used to look at her like that, or did he and she just never noticed? Who knows, the silence was far too much for her to handle right now and so with that in mind she spoke,

“A dating profile? I thought that went against everything you believed in?” A casual shrug of Bellamy’s shoulder was his initial reaction, his fingers toying with the pen he held simultaneously a distraction and an outlet for the apprehension he currently felt. In a gentle but sincere manner he replied,

“I met someone who was worth it.” Clarke felt the breath knocked out of her, as if she’d fallen backwards with an almighty slam onto the cold hard floor, making her gasp in a panicked desperation. Her gaze however identified immediately the shame that fell upon his handsome features, the way his lips pursed tightly into a severe line of guilt. With that image pierced into her mind she started to speak,

“Bellamy I...” Although before she could even start, he blurted out his voice helpless and vulnerable,

“I fucked up.” She paused conceding that actually what he was going to say was probably far more important than what she was going to babble on about, she had a bad habit of just talking continuously about nothing when anxious. He dropped the pen from his grasp, the plastic hitting the wooden surface with a light thud before he continued,

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me... I’m... I’m really not good at this.” With a slight tilt of her head, one that was simultaneously adorable and slightly unnerving by Bellamy’s account, she answered him. Her tone was calm and even, consideration thrumming through her every word,

“It’s fine you told me what you... did, I knew what you were like. It shouldn’t have surprised me, not really.” Her words held no malice but the clean and concise detail of fact, because it was true. Immediately his mind threw back at him the oh so eloquent explanation of himself: ‘He fucks’, she had known what a shallow and unfeeling arsehole he was yet she had liked him. She liked him enough that seeing him with someone else had meant enough for her to avoid him and the bar altogether and weirdly that gave him some hope. With her agonizing words of truth fresh on his wounds he admitted to her,

“I don’t want to be like that... not anymore.” She could not suppress the flash of hope that gleamed within her eyes, the way her heart started to beat that much harder within her chest that she couldn’t help but ask,

“Do we have a chance?” The tension he seemed to have once held in his posture ebbed away, allowing a similar expression of hope to paint his features too. A slight curl of his lips indicated heavily the answer she was going to receive,

“I think so.” With the grin he had so missed appearing upon her lips, he couldn’t help but bask in the moment in which his heart seemed to lift so high he was sure it might fall out of his mouth. Looking up at him she stated,

“I think so too.” Placing his hands on the bar he leant towards her, stopping in the middle of the space that had been between them. Her gaze glanced down at his lips, before he too did the same the gravitas of the moment holding them in a state of suspension. He wasn’t going to say it, and he didn’t really want to say it but before he knew it he hushed,

“I’m falling in love with you.” Placing her hands to cup his face she pressed her lips to his, it was tender and sweet but held all the pretence of a passion and fervour ready to be unleashed. Their lips moved in a synergy that suggested they had kissed many a time before, a kind of familiarity enabling them to express all the affection they held for one another in a mere touch of lips. When they finally parted Clarke's hands remained on his jaw, her nose still brushing against his as she hushed back,

“I’m falling in love with you too.” With a quick endearing peck to her lips, one that strongly suggested Bellamy really wasn’t quite ready for them to stop, he moved back from her space. His dimples had reappeared their prominence all the more important from the fact that she had been the one to make them appear so, she made him smile... she made him happy. As he forced himself to step back, worried that he may not be able to actually function at work knowing that he could be kissing Clarke, he quipped,

“We changed the wifi password by the way.” An amused titter emanated from Clarke herself, as she replied with the vigour of hilarity,

“I don’t care I have my own wifi!” She watched as his features fell slightly, almost as if he genuinely thought for a moment that a lack of wifi meant she wouldn’t want to come to the bar. This time it was she who leant up onto the bar, her hands allowing her to lean forward and coax him back towards her. Pressing his hands atop of hers, he gazed adoringly into her eyes his nose a mere hair's width from hers as she drawled lovingly,

“I’ve got a better reason to come here now.” Before she placed her lips upon his again, allowing every ounce of fondness and emotion she felt for him bleed into it. She could feel his lips edge into a smile against hers, and she knew for a fact that despite all the shit they had gone through, self-inflicted or not, it was worth it. He was worth it... they were worth it.


End file.
